


With Love, From Bebop

by BeccaNoodles



Category: Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Pintrest, Writing Exercise, february writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:22:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaNoodles/pseuds/BeccaNoodles
Summary: A Feb. prompt challenge I found on Pintrest (link in notes!) to help me with some writers block and try out ideas with our fave characters! Mostly Drabble style, but some might be longer than others (maybe even full one-shots to come, we shall see). Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Jet Black & Ed & Spike Spiegel & Faye Valentine, Spike Spiegel/Faye Valentine
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. The Comment

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guuuyyys~  
> So, fortunately/unfortunately I am back, but not with another Ch. of Baby Diaries.. I am still working on it and have drafts of the next few chapters, but I find myself in a bit of a hole with it and just decided to step away for a while and do something simple. [And yes- that's what I was doing with Baby Diaries in the first place against another story, but then it turned into a whole thing for me!! LOL]  
> So hope you enjoy these! They have been pretty fun to write so far. [Almost caught up!]

_****_

Jet Black didn’t like to think of himself as a sensitive man.

But he can’t help but reflect fondly on her words.

“Ed loves Jet-person’s food the mooOoost!”

But also regretfully.

Poor kid. Now she’ll never know good food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Printrest Prompts:http://www.writerswrite.co.za/february-writing-prompts/
> 
> I was also inspired to do this after reading "The Weight Of Us" by "great gospel" on Fanfiction.net
> 
> Y'all should give it a read!


	2. Who are you?

Sometimes she looks in the mirror and sees an old woman.

She can’t help but visualize the grey streaks of hair and wrinkles around her eyes and lips. 

She even imagines a dimmer green in her orbs.

But it’s hard to see more than that because she doesn’t know the hardships that would have made her more worn out by life. 

Other times she sees a twelve-year-old, though this is new.

Now that she has an image of herself at that age, she can’t unsee her younger self with her youthful gaze and innocent smile. 

Most of the time she sees a very young and very old woman trapped in a lost woman’s body.

Just who the hell are you?


	3. Diatribe

“Lunkhead.”

“Brat.”

“Dumbass!”

“Wench!”

“Bastard!!”

“Bitch!!”

Jet finally decides to interject. 

“Okay this just isn’t cute anymore.”

“Stay out of it!!”

They shouted in unison, before returning to what he liked to call their “I hate that I’m attracted to you, so I’ll be overly offensive sessions.”

“Well excuse me for interrupting, next time get a room! In fact, I’ll give you this one, be my guest. Go at it like a couple of monkeys already, you’re making me sick!” 

With that, he stomped away from two bewildered and somewhat embarrassed idiots looking after him. 

And with a very satisfied smirk.


	4. Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

2day is Edwards takeoverrrr

HAHAHA

2day FayeFaye had some bad ice cream and spent many hours in the bathroom yet AGAIN! 

Poor FayeFaye! 

Spikeperson complained and fell asleep for an eternityyyy. 

Ein had to make sure 3 whole times that he was still alive!

Since he didn’t want to wake up, Ed drew him some eyeballs instead and a funny mustache for laughs.

HAHAHA

Jet burned his hand on the stove again…but he didn’t think it was funny when I wanted to put it in milk. 

HAHHAHAHHAHA

It always works for Ed!

Another day aboard Bebop-Bebop! 

I don’t know why all the adults look so frumpy and grumpy. Ed had a great time!

“Ed. What are doing with my journal?”  
Faye called in the distance

UHOH

ED HAS TO GO

BYE-BYE!

“ED GET BACK HERE!”


	5. An Old Photograph

It was the only photograph he ever chose to keep. 

It wasn’t of the three of them.

It definitely wasn’t of Vicious.

It wasn’t even of Julia. 

It was of the woman claimed to be his mother.

When he was six the “old hag” at the orphanage was griping to him, again, over his behavior. She took the photo out from a half empty box with his name on it and angrily tossed it his way. 

“This is the woman that didn’t want you and saddled me with you instead! You know why? Because she was a drug addict, and you’ll end up just like her at this rate!” 

He remembers stealing the picture and crying to it by himself in a sad little corner somewhere. 

Then, as time went on, the woman in the photo went from being a source of comfort to him to a source of anger.

She didn’t want him, and he was stuck fighting in the streets because of it.

Then for a brief moment she was what kept him going. Because somewhere in the back of his mind he thought he could meet her. For what reason, he wasn’t sure.

He imagined she might have a laugh like Annie's

That idea was short lived.

He heard somewhere, from someone far away that she was dead. 

This woman without a name.

He didn’t bother verifying.

He looked at the photograph in his hands and held it with a tight grip. It was tattered from the years and even tapped together from a few fits of rage a long long time ago. 

The sun was still shining.

She had curly red hair and looked happy holding her swollen belly. 

He used to think he saw some love in her eyes.

But each year her eyes only grew sadder. 

And he realizes it’s the only part about her that’s identical to himself. 

He silently hopes one day she’ll stop looking so sad, because he still can’t bring himself to toss her away.

And maybe his eyes will follow suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't trying to get all angsty, but here we are!


	6. Never Say...

Never say you don’t need anyone. 

That you’re just fine on your own.

You’ll never care about anyone. 

Who needs ties am I right?

Never say you’ll never love anyone. 

Because the fact of the matter is, it’s human nature. 

And when you finally meet those people, it’ll be hard to need them, and want them, and care about them and…love them. 

And you’re stuck wondering if they need, want, care about and love you.

So never say it.

You big fat liar. 

-A Fairy


	7. I found a key

I found a key on her as Jet cuffed her to the railing of our stairs.

It went unnoticed.

There was no way it was the key to her ship, so I decided it was time to scavenge.

She mouthed off in the distance as I walked back to the hangar where we kept the “Red Tail” detained. 

It was a nice ship. Looked fairly young, and from what I had seen in the recent past, it could handle real well too. I wondered briefly if she stole it, like she seemed to do everything else. 

I pulled myself up onto the spacecraft and let myself in. 

So, what did this key belong to?

She sure had a lot of junk around, kind of messy for a woman. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a brown suitcase. 

Nope, no key for that, but I definitely had a look through it later. 

I moved it out of the way and then there it was. A tiny compartment that could barely be seen on the floor of her ship. 

With a keyhole. 

Bingo. 

I placed the key inside, and it was a perfect fit. With the satisfying click of the lock, it opened up. 

Much to my disappointment, none of my lost money was inside. In fact, no money was inside.

Only some cigarettes, I nabbed those

A lighter, meh wasn’t great quality

Some children’s book, the LED holograph kind…odd

And one photo. 

It looked like her. She was sitting in what appeared to be a hospital bed, with no make-up on and a dazed look on her face. Her eyes gazed into the camera like she was looking at something she didn’t recognize. 

She looked pretty. 

But almost nothing like the fiery woman sitting in my living room at that very moment. 

This girl looked somewhat frightened and harmless. I almost felt bad for her and didn’t even have to know why.

Welp.

Nothing of value here.

I closed up the door and left the key.

In the future, the knowledge of this little compartment came in handy whenever I ran out of cigarettes or even some cheap alcohol. 

And the look on her face when she noticed things turning up missing was priceless. 

She wouldn’t say anything out loud of course, because it was supposed to be her little secret cubby.

So, I let her think she was slowly losing it instead.


	8. Honesty is...

My pops always used to say, honesty was more than just telling the truth. 

It was living it too. 

I’ve always been good at telling the truth.

That’s why I became an investigator with the ISSP. That’s also why I didn’t last very long. 

But see, I can honestly say, I don’t always live honestly.

If I’m too honest I just might admit how much I like having these bunch of nuts on my ship, attempting to be crew. A family even. 

Yeah, that’s right. 

It’s one big sad lie. 

The thing is, it’s always been this way.

I used to tell myself things were good with Alisa, that we had a great relationship. Even to this day.

I knew all along it was doomed. 

Faye is obviously dishonest, telling blatant lies and the sort to get what she wants. 

Spike is a bit more discrete. He doesn’t necessarily lie, but he doesn’t always tell the whole truth. 

Ed just makes things up out of thin air. 

But at least they’re honest about it. 

You know who they are. 

One day I’d like to just be honest. Let myself enjoy these moments for what they are.

Because they won’t last forever. 

And if I’m being honest. I really want them to. 

-A Black Dog


	9. I killed it.

“You did not.”

“I did too!” 

“Faye, you expect me to believe you killed an innocent bird out of anger? Even I know you’re not that cold hearted.”

Spike chimes in. 

“I don’t know, I believe it.”

Faye,

“Excuse me?”

“Huh?”

“What makes you think I killed it!?” 

“You just said it!”

“Yeah, but you believe me. Do I look like a killer to you?”

Jet sighs, but silently observes Faye to see if she looks angry enough to kill.

Spike continues,

“No. I just believe you’re that cold hearted!”

Faye crosses her arms. Jet is still examining. 

After a moment, he chimes back in. 

“So…did you actually kill it?”

“I wasn’t angry at the bird. He just got in the way when my foot went for that wannabe conman…so yeah. I killed it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, sorry idk why. It just happened don't look at me~


	10. Mesh

Spike remembers the first time he met Vicious. 

Mao had just taken him in and wanted to introduce him to another kid around his age. 

“I think you’ll make a great pair,” he said. 

At the time Spike thought he meant as friends, but Mao had his plans for them all along. 

They sat in on one of his training sessions. He had lengthy hair even then, though it was black with white streaks. 

Spike was glued to his every move.

He fought like no one he had ever seen, this kid they called Vicious. He wasn’t forceful, he was smooth and swift, just like Spike wanted to be. Spike was fascinated and it was at that moment he decided he wanted to be just like him. 

Vicious was friendly once they were introduced, but Spike could tell he had seen a lot in his life. There was something hidden there, something no one would voluntarily want to see. Spike wondered briefly what was capable of bringing it out. 

So, Spike improved. Vicious helped him train until they were the best two in the lot, just as he was ordered to do. No one could take them down, not even each other. 

That’s when they were officially teamed together. 

“You two are the best of the best,” Mao said, “I know you will bring the honor the Dragons deserve.”

They were just a couple of teenagers, but just as Mao hoped, they did bring honor.

Hit after hit.

Deal after deal.

Vicious instilled fear and Spike charmed his way through.

They meshed perfectly.

“Meshing can be dangerous,” Mao once told Spike. Years had passed and they were already at the top of the game.

“You and Vicious make a great team, but always remember who you are. Never lose that Spike.”

Spike didn’t understand at the time, but Mao’s words rang through his mind for a while until he realized something. 

Vicious carried that name for a reason. 

He didn’t hold back. 

No matter the cost.

Neither did Spike, yet everyone loved him, and everyone was afraid of Vicious. 

Now Spike understood.

Mao didn’t want Spike to look up to Vicious.

He didn’t want him to become more like Vicious.

He wanted Vicious to become more like Spike. 

That was Mao’s first mistake. 

Because they weren’t really that different. 

Vicious charmed his way into Spike’s world and Spike instilled a great fear in Vicious. 

He was capable of taking everything from him and vice versa. 

Funny how one could mesh so well with another and despise them even more because of it.


	11. Six-Pack

While Faye had her fair share of men that ogled at her, she had to admit that she did a bit of ogling herself. 

Mostly out of boredom or for some far-off wish that one day a handsome prince would whisk her away to his wealthy estate. 

Ah to be set for life.

Checking people out was just a part of the human existence. 

So, when it came to the boys on the ship, they were no exception. 

It really wasn’t that she lusted after them, but more that she happened to take notice of their nice builds. 

It didn’t help that they practically paraded around shirtless half the time!

Namely, Spike on that one.

His physique was agreeable, she couldn’t lie. At least to herself that was, there was no way she would ever let him in on that opinion. 

He was tall, just the right amount of tall. 

Lanky, but in a good way. 

Muscular, but not overly muscular. 

And just the tiniest outline of a six-pack.

Now Jet, he was less her particular cup of tea, but she did give credit where credit was due.

His body honestly amazed her.

Not only did he have bionic parts, he may as well have been a body builder. From what she could see, he had muscles in places she didn’t know muscles could be seen! And the bionic arm matched!

Of course, knowing that Spike had a six-pack, she just had to find out if Jet had one to. 

The question was how…

Bring stranded in the middle of space, with little food and no fuel can do some funny things to the mind. So, what better time than that to plan, no? What else was a girl to do?

What she did know about Jet, was he could be pretty competitive and stubborn. Something the two of them actually had in common. 

So, why not a nice guessing game! 

The penalty, being of course, to undress.

She would mask it as a way to make money off of him, but knowing that Jet didn’t have any to spare, it would be the perfect opportunity. 

After, surprisingly, very little convincing and some warning comments from Spike he agreed!

When he offered to give her his things instead, she knew it would be a long way before she could get the confirmation she needed. But Faye was determined. She played him for all he had, down to the undershirt. 

And voila! 

There it was. 

The most glorious and well defined six-pack she had ever seen! 

Well good for you Jet. 

“Let’s go again!”

Faye was caught off guard by this for a split second. He was left in only his boxers after all. 

Unfortunately for him, she was having a little too much fun with this situation. 

Poor oblivious Jet. 

“Are you sure?” she chimed. 

“All or nothing!”

They played; she beat him.

Though, she did have the decency not to stare.

He had guts. 

He might just make it to the top of her list!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta give Jet's (Toys In The Attic) six-pack some love!


	12. You Bastard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry I am a day late, but that means two updates today, yay~~  
> Just wanted to let you know I decided to make a social media profile page for all fanfic/fandom(related to my fics or fic preferences) content! Highly Bebop focused! I would love to create a community with you guys as fans of the show and writers! I chose to go with Tumblr for now because the platform is just easier to use for what i'd like to do. I might consider creating one for Instagram in the future (or maaaaybe twitter, i'm personally not a huge fan of twitter so we shall see). You can find me under my name here "BeccaNoodles" or here:  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/beccanoodles  
> :) I hope to see you guys there! I will post updates, analysis/discussions and just overall fan thingys haha.

Bastard-

Literally, an illegitimate child born of unmarried parents. In the derogatory sense, an unfavorable and despicable person.

It’s a Sunday.

He isn't sure how much time has passed, but he knows he’s on Ganymede.

Step 1: Avoid Mars.

Step 2: Bottoms Up.

Spike spends most of his time in and out of bars.

What else is there to do when you fake your death and run away from all the messed-up shit in your life?

Sulk.

It’s childish, he knows. But he’s running on beers now. The liquor is getting expensive.

It’s quiet and almost empty in the bar, mid-day.

There’s a small chime that indicates someone entering the building.

Spike tries not to pay them much attention, though his senses refuse to give him that satisfaction. He catches the sound of heavy footsteps and a gloomy presence sit near him on a bar stool.

The bartender is making familiar conversation with the man, as if he knows him.

“No luck today huh?”

The man grumbles a “no.”

The bartender wordlessly hands him a whiskey.

Spike, who’s slumped forward with his head resting in his elbow, adjusts a bit to look at the man. His eye is first drawn to his metal arm.

He must have been staring, the man catches his eye and doesn’t look away.

“What’s this guy’s deal?” he questions, in a gruff voice, to the bartender. He doesn’t address Spike, even though he’s looking right at him.

Spike thinks to himself maybe he is dead. And he faked himself out, thinking he was alive and in hiding.

“Eh…your guess is as good as mine. Been in here all day. He’s just troubled. Maybe even heart broken.”

The guy grunts again in reply and finally looks away. Spike then shoves his head in further.

Time passes and the man finally leaves.

Then everyone leaves and Spike is told its closing time.

He steps outside and it’s raining.

_Jus my luck_ , he thinks.

“Let me get ya a cab son!” The bartender calls to Spike, but he only stumbles away.

“N’thanks!”

The next day Spike shows up again. Late afternoon this time.

The bartender looks uneasy, but notices Spike seems sober. Well, hungover is more like it.

“I’ll take a water.” Spike mutters, sitting in the same barstool as before.

The bartender is relieved by this and pours him a tall glass.

“Feeling any better kid?”

Spike shrugs and wonders why these guys always have to ask questions.

He thinks about it again and realizes what an annoyingly curious job it must be.

Spike nearly downs his cup when the door chimes and in walks the bionic arm guy. He gets a better look at him and thinks the man actually looks kind of cool. He even had a piece under his eye.

Sick.

The man notices him right away too.

“You again? Least you don’t look half dead this time.”

“I’ve died once, I’ve seen death.” This is Spike’s reply, though it comes out far darker than he’s intending. And he probably carries an empty look along with it. The room is quiet for a split second before the older man snickers. Spike is a tad taken by this but brushes it off.

“Is that right? Well, it sure looks like you just came back from it. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Spike looks down at himself.

Oh boy.

He does look disheveled and he is certain he looks unwashed as well… he knows he is. 

Spike shrugs again.

The man shakes his head and orders his regular. Straight whiskey.

A couple of minutes pass and Spike is about ready to ask for an egg to concoct his handy Prairie Oyster. The other two men are carrying on a conversation that Spike wasn’t listening to, but it’s all interrupted when a group of four loud men barge into the bar. The nice calm in the atmosphere is now broken. And Spike is pissed.

“Perfect. Now’s my chance.”

Spike hears him mutter this to the bartender.

The man stands to his feet and walks over to the group of men, Spike watches closely.

“Now, don’t you gentlemen think it’s a little rude to barge into this humble establishment like that? It’s not even eight o clock yet.”

One of the men, who seems to be the leader of the group, stands to size him up. He even takes a slow walk around him as a way of intimidation. Spike thinks it’s cheap.

“Oh. I’m sorry pops. We certainly didn’t mean to disturb your little humble establishment.” Sarcasm and mockery drips from the youngster’s tone.

In the distance, Spike is engaged. This so-called leader is a try hard, he thinks. He examines the others, they’re busy snickering like fools. And they shouldn’t be, because when Spike examines the bionic guy, he knows he means business.

“Well, I do appreciate your apology, but unfortunately I have some other business to attend to…Mike “The Tiger” Brooks.”

This kid, who is apparently called “The Tiger” suddenly loses his cool.

_Hmm, fitting name then. Just like a cat._

“Wha- you’re a bounty hunter!” he states.

Spike’s interest is peaked.

“That’s right,” the older man replies, then he takes out his gun. “And I’m in the mood for a fight.”

Within seconds, one of Brooks guys attempts to grab the man from behind, but he dodges and elbows him in the face instead. Meanwhile the other two start to gang up and Brooks is reaching for his gun. The bounty hunter does a good job taking them down, but they keep springing up like roaches.

Spike recognizes his skill, and the lack of it in the others. They’re too aggressive. _If only he’d use that to his advantage._

Something starts to surge within him.

He feels a familiar urge, almost as if he was a drug addict looking his vice right in the eye. He feels jumpy and energized. He’s watching, waiting, almost hoping this guy will leave himself vulnerable just so he can have an excuse.

An excuse to make himself feel alive.

Then, the bounty hunter’s gun is knocked out of his hand. He’s in a compromising position.

Now.

Spike carries a swift kick to Brooks’ hand, knocking his gun away. Brooks’ attention is now on him, and he looks angry. Not that it’s intimidating at all.

“What the hell!? Where’d you come from you crazy bastard!”

Spike smirks and in the distance, he can see the shock on the bounty hunter’s face.

“From the dead,” he answers, then drives up another kick to the guys face, knocking him out cold. This of course riles up the other goons and they shoot for him. It all comes out of him like lighting, Spike moves from side to side, knocking each one out of the way in swift movements. It’s as if all of his pent-up emotion flew through him with each hit.

It’s a lot better than actually dealing with those emotions.

In a quick gesture he reaches for the bounty hunter’s abandoned gun and holds it up to the last guy attempting to fight him. There’s fear in his eyes.

“Well? What do you choose?”

He slumps to the floor.

“Shit.”

…

The bounty hunter eventually gets all of his prizes cuffed and situated. The bar has been cleared and the hunter apologizes to the bartender for the disturbance. He doesn’t seem to mind much. Spike is positioned back in his seat, nursing a prairie oyster this time. The bounty hunter comes up next to him.

“Joe, let’s get two of those usuals.”

So, the bartender is named Joe. Joe smiles and complies.

“My name’s Jet. Jet Black,” the bounty hunter states.

Jet Black.

That’s a color.

Joe places the two glasses of whiskey before them.

“This isn’t necessary. In all honesty I wasn’t even trying to help, just saw a sparing opportunity,” Spike tells him.

Jet laughs. “It doesn’t matter none. You got skill kid! That’s enough to earn a drink from me.”

Spike smirks. “So do you. You’re a bounty hunter then.”

“That’s right. Just trying to make ends meet.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s…it’s something. Something kinda great and something kinda awful.”

Spike ponders this.

“What do they call you?” Jet asks.

Spike hesitates a moment, but then doesn’t bother trying.

“Spike Spiegel.”

“Spike. Well Spike Spiegel from the dead, it’s good to meet you.” Jet holds out his hand with a big grin and Spike takes it.

“I have to haul these guys to the station.” Jet quickly takes back the rest of his own drink and firmly places the glass down on the bar. “Listen, if you’re interested, I wouldn’t mind some help in this business.” He starts to write something down. “This is my com number. I have a ship and everything. And I’d like to have a crazy bastard like you on my side.” He gives him the paper and a hard pat to his shoulder with his mechanical hand.

“Enjoy that drink. And if you call sooner than later, I might just have your share of the bounty. See ya Joe!” and with that, Jet and the goons are gone.

Spike sits there with paper in hand and whiskey in the other.

He holds the glass up in a quiet pledge.

Bounty hunting.

Well so be it.

Bastard-

Impressive, of humor, a load of awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually so much harder to write than I thought and I still feel like I need to toy with it a bit. For one, I want to get better at writing fight scenes. I think some of the topics in this challenge later on will help me practice. Then I also tried out present tense, which I don't normally do. I'm also trying to improve in sticking to one tense lol. So, I have had this idea of how Spike and Jet met in my head for a long time, it's cool to finally try it out!


	13. Out Of Breath

These days he’s out of breath as soon as she enters a room.

He’d always known she was beautiful, but it wasn’t her beauty he was taken by.

It was what he knew about her. Who she really was and who she could be.

What she tasted like, felt like, and breathed like.

His senses were heightened and all he could think about was kissing her again and taking her breath away too.

Because she needed to feel like he did.

It wasn’t fair for him to be out of breath all on his own.

It was always better when they longed for breath together.

And kissing her was like kissing no one else.

Who would have known?

Suddenly she comes up to him, her arms loosely clinging onto his waist as she tippy toes a tad to reach his ear.

“Out of breath, are you?”

And then it starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAHA use your imaginations~
> 
> I know I wasn’t specific, but you can choose who it was yourself ;D
> 
> Tumblr @BeccaNoodles - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/beccanoodles


	14. You knew?

“So, you knew?”

Her voice is velvety. It makes him soft.

She is vulnerable but tries hard to shelter it with confidence.

But he knows better.

“Yeah, I knew.”

She hates when he talks low like that. Not because she doesn’t like it, but because she _does_ like it. A lot.

He knows and yet he still tortures her like this.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He’s quiet. He gives her props for not looking away. Maybe she’s more confident than he thought.

“What was I supposed to say?”

“I have no idea.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Of course not.”

“It’s not that…”

They’re quiet again. Faye breaks the silence.

“It is that.”

He answers right over her-

“It’s not.”

“Then what is it Spike?”

He’s quiet again. It’s pissing her off.

“Are you trying to humiliate me?” she asks.

“No.”

“Then why bring it up?”

He’s looking at her so intently, it almost scares her.

“Why?” she asks again. “Why couldn’t you just let me go on? I was fine. I don’t need any of this. It’s really none of your business anyway.”

“I think it is my business.”

“Do you think you’re taking advantage of me?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not. I know what this is. You don’t know anything.”

Spike sighs.

“Why do you have to be difficult.”

“Why can’t you be happy?”

He’s a bit stunned. It a genuine question. She’s giving him that pleading look that almost breaks his heart.

“I have no idea.”

“Is it me?”

“ _No_.”

He doesn’t hide the pain in his voice. It’s not her. Not at all.

“Can’t you just kiss me, make me think everything is okay? So what? I lo-“

He kisses her.

He kisses her with all he has, because it’s all he can do right now. His heart tugs.

She wants to cry, but she doesn’t.

They both curse fate.

Love. You knew, didn’t you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah love. Sometimes it's too complicated, sometimes not complicated enough. Happy V-day people!  
> I went with good old dialogue for this one, it's my favorite thing to write. I had a couple of ideas for this prompt, but I didn't wanna get too angsty on Valentines day, even though this still kind of touches that. I mean, with a phrase like that, I can't help myself! I also just love playing with this whole thing of love among Spike and Faye...there are a couple of ways I feel to go about it but I always lean this way. Which I feel is a little closer to the reality of the show and timing etc.. Don't worry, I do plan to indulge in happiness eventually too~
> 
> Stay warm!
> 
> Tumblr @BeccaNoodles - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/beccanoodles


	15. No, I won't

Each member of the Bebop took care of Ein in their very own way.

Spike protected him.

Jet provided for him.

Faye talked to him.

But Edward was his very best friend. She was as loyal to him as he was to her.

So, when they each silently asked the question, “You’ll never leave me will you?”

He’d answer with the wag of his tail to Jet, the hanging of his tongue to Spike, and the nudge of his head to Faye’s hand,

_No, I won’t._

It was a comfort to them.

Even though he knew where his true loyalty stood.

And when it was all over, who he would never leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The loyalty of a pup, but they still only have one true owner haha. This is the prompt I was stuck on for some reason, I wasn't sure what to do with it at all! You'll notice it has some similarities to the next one, because I was still in the mindset from that one, so I thought that made it a little interesting.


	16. What a jerk

Time continued to move forward.

That meant life had to as well.

As the years passed by and Faye Valentine grew older, her understanding of her time on the Bebop altered, bit by bit.

For a long time, she was angry. Angry at Spike. Angry at Jet.

He understood Spike. He felt for Spike. He probably even still respected Spike.

Jet let Spike go.

It always made her feel like she was missing something. Something she would never understand.

_But he should have fought harder._

Eventually, it wasn’t too hard to comprehend what happened at all.

What choice did Spike really have?

It was the inevitable.

One cannot simply forget their past without confronting it…

Even her, someone with no past, couldn’t find closure until she got that past back.

What could Jet do about the inevitable?

What could anyone do?

Then, it just made her sad.

Terribly sad.

What a cruel card he’d been dealt.

It wasn’t fair. To her at least.

For Spike it might have been exactly what he deserved, hoped for even.

_But all the ways things could have been different…_

But they weren’t.

And Faye wanted to make things right somehow. Follow his hypocritical advice, because facing _her_ past didn’t lead to the end of _her_ life.

A life she’d been given, not a second, but third chance at.

And she realized how much of a defining part of her life, her time on the Bebop had truly been.

The Bebop gave her shelter.

Jet gave her tolerance.

Ed and Ein gave her laughter.

And Spike gave her a new understanding for life.

In a way, he probably saved her from herself. And he didn’t even have to try.

But despite all of that understanding, Faye ponders on their last encounter, each anniversary. The way she felt, the way he left her standing there. All of her emotions and _self_ splayed out among the room before them.

She can’t help but think,

_What a jerk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, what a jerk. Lol, this scene was literally the first thing that popped into my head with this prompt.


End file.
